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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26648977">it's oceans that I want</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/something_safe/pseuds/gleamingandwholeanddeadly'>gleamingandwholeanddeadly (something_safe)</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/printersdeadly/pseuds/printersdeadly'>printersdeadly</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaysgone/pseuds/printersdevils'>printersdevils (tuesdaysgone)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU - they don't jump, Bottom Hannibal, BottomHanniBonanza, Dark Will Graham, Declarations Of Love, First Times, Hannibal - Freeform, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham - Freeform, Hannibal/Will - Freeform, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Penetrative Sex, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Post-TWOTL, Rough Sex, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will and Hannibal on the run, albeit reluctantly, conflicted feelings, their usual bullshit back and forthing, they're in Madagascar because why not</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:53:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,997</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26648977</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/something_safe/pseuds/gleamingandwholeanddeadly, https://archiveofourown.org/users/printersdeadly/pseuds/printersdeadly, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaysgone/pseuds/printersdevils</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After they've slayed the Dragon, Will makes a different call and decides to throw himself and Hannibal into life, rather than death. Hannibal rewards him by throwing down the gauntlet. </p><p>The second place winner of Fannibal Fest's #BottomHanniBonanza challenge!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>370</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bottom Hanni  Bonanza</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>it's oceans that I want</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The smell of blood overwhelms Will's senses, shining like oil on their skin in the dark as he embraces Hannibal. For a moment, Will thinks he should end it like this, one final chance at redemption. He could take a step, make a wish, and plunge them both into the cold arms of the ocean. </p><p>But redemption has no more pull on his bones. His specific gravity circles Hannibal instead, face tucked against the crown of his head as if he would protect Will from all harm. He nearly laughs at the irony, but daren't risk the pain. </p><p>Will pulls back, holding onto Hannibal's shoulders.</p><p>"We need to go."</p><p>"Yes," Hannibal agrees, voice rough, but he stalls Will. "What did you see?"</p><p>Will debates. "… I wanted to throw us over."</p><p>"And it would have been beautiful," Hannibal whispers.</p><p>Looking up, their mouths are so close, and Hannibal is so warm, blood and beguilement. He's open to Will, as never before - like a wound. No more hiding, no more lying.</p><p>"Come on," Will repeats. </p><p>Tucking an arm under Hannibal’s shoulder, he trudges where Hannibal points: a garage, a small late model sedan inside. Hannibal limps around to the trunk, popping it and lifting the false bottom of the storage compartment, revealing two duffels.</p><p>Will raises a brow. "Is one of those..."</p><p>"For you, yes. Get them out, and get in. You have IDs in there." </p><p>Will obeys that, and every other order that follows as Hannibal navigates them to a place where they can tend their wounds; a doctor who asks no questions. Then, they lay low.</p><p> </p><p>Will and the Bureau had underestimated the resources Hannibal has at his disposal; a seemingly endless list of properties scattered about the globe. It was enough to make Will’s head swim, as if they were picking vacation spots.</p><p>It's still swimming now as they disembark from their last flight. Will shades his eyes as he looks out across the great expanse of Ivato airport, the customs building itself dwarfed by the fringing mountains. </p><p>They’d had no issues travelling, even on their layover in Paris, thanks to the immaculate documentation Hannibal has procured. They both look different now besides, tanned and healed. The wound on Will's cheek is hidden by his grown-in beard, and Hannibal is sporting a tidy amount of silver stubble himself. His hair is growing out of its short crop, also grey, ruffled now with no product to secure it.</p><p>Will steels himself against the urge to reach out and brush it from his eyes. Tenderness is the last thing this man deserves, and it transforms into the desire to snatch the silver strands taut. That's equally disturbing, equally enthralling.</p><p>Hannibal glances over, a smile touching the corner of his mouth. </p><p>"Finally," Will intuits, "you'll have me all to yourself."</p><p>"As always, you perceive correctly."</p><p>"You're getting predictable," Will needles.</p><p>"If I were, you would be considerably more concerned."</p><p>"I'm not afraid of you anymore," Will tells him pointedly.</p><p>"No, you are not." His gaze takes on a keen glint of anticipation. "Do you mean to punish me for past misdemeanors, Will?"</p><p>"Do you want me to?" Will asks mildly.</p><p>"That depends on the punishment."</p><p>"You sound like you think you'll enjoy it."</p><p>"I always appreciate you most when you're honest, Will."</p><p>Will sets his jaw, resigned. "I suppose I'm the only one who could punish you."</p><p>"In any way that would register, yes." Hannibal is matter-of-fact about it.</p><p>"You deserve it."</p><p>"I have done my best to."</p><p>"That's the gospel truth," Will barks out a laugh.</p><p>Hannibal echoes it, and Will realizes he's mirroring him, unable to form his own authentic response: he’s rattled by Will. It feels good to realize it. They're equals now, no more doctor-patient constraints. </p><p>Will has fought hard for it, and paid the price. The ache of it is reassuring, under the scar on his belly. He won't ever forget the lessons Hannibal has taught him.</p><p>In a way, he owes him. It's a debt that's only partially paid by Will's abstention from throwing them both off a cliff. He thinks he's owed reparations.</p><p>There are many options, some of them more… damaging than others. The one that yields the most desirable results also puts Will in a position to suffer. He's not sure he cares to avoid it.</p><p> </p><p>Their new home, after the long drive, is next to the beach, smaller than Will was expecting, but clean and well-stocked with conveniences. Altogether more luxurious than the vast majority of homes he’s seen here.</p><p>"Everything as you like it?" he asks Hannibal, asinine.</p><p>"It's perfect," Hannibal says. Will throws his bag onto the kitchen counter and turns in a slow circle, evaluating. Hannibal waits.</p><p>"Beautiful," Will admits. "Show me the rest.”</p><p>A strange gleam in Hannibal's eye at that, and he nods. Will trails him, but Hannibal doesn't show him any of the adjoining rooms, just heads upstairs. Will nearly accuses him of being a crappy tour guide, but he's robbed of his voice when he realizes Hannibal is leading him to the master bedroom, his hands moving in front of his body in a familiar motion - unbuttoning.</p><p>"Hannibal, stop."</p><p>"No," he replies calmly.</p><p>Setting his jaw, Will starts forward. Hannibal doesn't turn to face him when Will’s chest meets his back, just braces into his touch as he had on the cliff edge, and Will can't stop. He grips Hannibal's throat, his hand, stilling and pressing close at once.</p><p>"What do you think you're doing?" </p><p>"I'm showing you the rest. Throwing down the gauntlet."</p><p>Will squeezes harder around his throat. "Are you sure you want to do that? You don't know I’ll pick it up."</p><p>"You’ve always had difficulty letting things lie." He's so damnably calm.</p><p>Will sneers, then shoves him toward the bed. He's never seen Hannibal stumble, and him catching himself on the edge of the bed sends a strange thrill through him.</p><p>"Will…" It's not quite a warning.</p><p>"What? You picking it back up?"</p><p>"Never." Hannibal kneels on the mattress facing Will, tugging him in by the shirtfront.</p><p>Will takes his chin sharply. He has questions, riddles they could bounce back and forth - but he doesn't want to hear anymore of Hannibal's clever words. He wants to feel him react, as he had when they slayed the dragon. Sinking in his own claws always yields results.</p><p>Careful of his own stiff, scarred cheek, he tugs Hannibal in and bites his lower lip. It only inflames him to hear Hannibal gasp, and he tugs his lip until Hannibal grasps his hair, then releases it with a growl.</p><p>Hannibal snarls in turn, biting at the vulnerable skin of Will's throat, a threat, a reminder.</p><p>Will just drags him off and kisses him proper, swallowing his ragged moan. Where Will's hands are frantically grasping, Hannibal's are still and firm. It's plain how much he wants this, and Will stalls, shocked.</p><p>Hannibal pulls back, breaths hot. "Will."</p><p>"What is it?"</p><p>"Take what you want," Hannibal murmurs.</p><p>"Is that what you want? For me to take from you?" He watches Hannibal's face carefully.</p><p>"You will be giving me something, too. Something precious."</p><p>"Maybe I don't want to."</p><p>"Then simply take."</p><p>Will hisses. His blood is up, curdling with wrath and a sudden desire. Hannibal makes it sound easy.</p><p>"You worry too much, Will," Hannibal reminds him, too gently.</p><p>Will's lower lip bows, and he pushes him down onto his back. "So I'll stop."</p><p>"Clever boy."</p><p>"I'll show you clever," Will snaps.</p><p>"I don't doubt it."</p><p>Will has to kiss him silent. He hates him, so much it makes his eyes sting and his throat tight; hates how much he needs him. How long he's waited for this moment. Hates that he knew it would come.</p><p>The thought makes him bite him again, hard, sinking teeth into the meat of Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal gasps, lashes shading his eyes, expression serene even in agony. He seems entirely willing to give Will the control he craves, nearly limp, letting him savage him with biting kisses and touches. When their bodies press, Will can feel that he's hard, but Hannibal isn't the only one, and Will doesn't have time to debate. He wants.</p><p>His hands fasten harshly on Hannibal's hem, releasing a spray of buttons as he snatches his shirt open; moves onto his flies. That won't rip but he does his best, tugging the slacks unceremoniously down around Hannibal's thighs before starting on his own.</p><p>Hannibal wriggles his remaining clothes off, his eyes bright, lower lip bleeding sluggishly.</p><p>Will can't slow down; he has to ruin that calm somehow, even knowing Hannibal relishes the violence.</p><p>He starts by flipping him onto his belly. He doesn't know how to judge a male body, but he thinks Hannibal's is beautiful. The pale brand on his back makes him livid, then, and he stares, fingers skimming.</p><p>"Will," Hannibal gentles.</p><p>"Tell me he died regretting that."</p><p>"You'd have to ask Alana and Margot, but Cordell certainly did for touching you."</p><p>"Good," Will replies. He bends and presses his forehead to the mark, closing his eyes at the well of rage.</p><p>"No one else gets to mark me?" Hannibal asks softly.</p><p>"Would you let anyone else mark me?" Will hisses back.</p><p>"Never," Hannibal breathes. "Not even Molly." He covers Will's hand on the mattress- his wedding ring.</p><p>Will knew he would say it. It still rankles. Gritting his teeth, he snatches the ring off, throwing it with a faint clink, before leaning to bite the crest of Hannibal's shoulder. Hannibal’s face, when Will can see it, is exultant. The movement presses their bodies together again, and the naked drag of their skin has them both gasping, hips rolling. Will quickly draws back and thumbs at the crease of Hannibal's thighs, spreading him open and leaning to bite at the flesh between his fingers, desperate for the taste of him. </p><p>His fingers slip between Hannibal's cheeks to stroke at the warm, soft muscle, jaw set to hide his trepidation. He’s mindful of Hannibal's comfort, but Hannibal is arching, upper lip twitching to reveal the cut of his teeth. </p><p>"Would you like to be inside me, Will?"</p><p>"Literally as well as metaphorically?"</p><p>"You can have both."</p><p>"Then yes," Will grits.</p><p>"You'll need to get me wet," Hannibal tells him, voice clinical, eyes challenging.</p><p>He’s expecting Will to balk, but he won’t. He's considered himself steadfastly straight, but Hannibal, as with everything, blurs every boundary he's ever had. He’s seldom surprised anymore.</p><p>Irritation capping the peaks of his love like the snow on the island mountains, Will spits between Hannibal's cheeks and spreads it with his fingers. He's not expecting Hannibal’s moan, soft, rasping, but there when he presses in. Just a finger first, into shocking heat and softness. It’s hard to be careful, and he's still impatient, giving Hannibal only cursory preparations before he spits into his own hand and strokes his cock.</p><p>Hannibal encourages him with soft words as he positions himself, and though Will knows he'd never have gotten Hannibal here if it wasn't consensual, he still meets his gaze and waits for his nod. Then he presses in, no more gentleness.</p><p>Hannibal's back arches, the brand growing oval as his body compacts. He snags Will's hair desperately over his shoulder to pull him closer, twisting to kiss him as Will sinks deeper. It’s nearly too tight, too dry, but still incredible. Will bites at Hannibal’s lips, hands fastening over his waist as he finds a slow pace. Being inside Hannibal is like nothing he’d imagined, maddeningly good.</p><p>“Hannibal…”</p><p>“Come on, wrathful boy, I won’t break.”</p><p>He snaps his teeth at the taunt; snaps his hips in turn, biting over and over, worrying at Hannibal's shoulders with pinching precision.</p><p>Hannibal urges him on, low and ragged, keeping him close by his hair.</p><p>"Fuck," Will hisses, burying his face against his neck when Hannibal bears up for more. He’s taking Will smoothly, torso made compact by their position. He’s desperate for it, and he’s not alone.</p><p>Nothing before the Dragon, or since, has felt this pulse-poundingly right. Will wasn't prepared for how much he'd want Hannibal; his body is taut and yielding and scorching hot, the noises he makes as he takes Will’s blunt, sharp thrusts are pleading. The more savage Will is, the more desperate he sounds.</p><p>When Will gropes underneath them to touch him, he almost hisses.</p><p>"Will," he pleads, hips craning back.</p><p>Will kisses him again, even though he doesn't deserve it, and palms his length. He closes his eyes; pushes his face into Hannibal's nape as he focuses on matching his thrusts with the pace of his hand. Both have the force of months of frustration.</p><p>Hannibal sounds like he's never felt so out of control, and Will can relate to it all too keenly. He can think of no one else who would drive either of them to that point. Will has to acknowledge, even behind all the resentment, that no one has ever been so invested in him; so finely attuned. So similar. Neither of them could deny it.</p><p>Growling under his breath, Will picks up speed to hear Hannibal's breath burst out. God, it's good. The most honest response Will could have anticipated. So he keeps it up, tightening his grip and deepening his thrusts.</p><p>"I want the rest," he growls.</p><p>Face still angled toward him, spine cupped and hands clenched in the sheets, Hannibal makes a low noise of affirmation.</p><p>"Let go," Will orders him.</p><p>Hannibal snarls silently, inarticulate with pleasure, body trembling. His face is flushed, his lips bitten scarlet.</p><p>Looking at him is enough to drive Will closer. He wraps a hand into his hair. Pleasure starts to wind through him, shortening his breath, so he yanks Hannibal off the mattress, broad back impacting Will's chest. They're both up on their knees, Hannibal's hand finding the headboard for purchase as he arches back.</p><p>Will's hands tighten on his hips until he can feel the bones digging in.</p><p>"Will," Hannibal breathes. "Having you inside me feels..."</p><p>"Tell me."</p><p>Hannibal bites his lip as he searches for the words. "Necessary," he says finally.</p><p>"It is," he murmurs, flexing his hips and nipping at his ear.</p><p>Hannibal rocks into it with a low, urgent groan. "Yes," he groans. "Yes, Will."</p><p>"You touch yourself," Will instructs, "I want to hold onto you."</p><p>He tucks his chin over Hannibal's shoulder so he can watch, his own hips snapping forward quick and constant as Hannibal wraps long fingers around his shaft, flushed dark and leaking at the tip. His hand moves slick and smooth; space opening between Will’s stomach and Hannibal's spine as they bend together. It makes each thrust slap more firmly, and Will grunts softly into Hannibal's ear. He can hear when Hannibal’s hand quickens on his cock, wet clicks of skin, feel Hannibal's body squeezing him tighter.</p><p>His climax is inevitable, a rush into darkness and sparking light. Will hears Hannibal's staggered cry at the same time his own is punched out of him, startlingly, devastatingly right.</p><p>Hannibal bows into him, trembling, and both of them sink down onto their shins, still pressed close.</p><p>Will bites down again into his shoulder muscle, and the corresponding wince pleases him in a way he can't quantify.</p><p>He slips out of him, with reluctance, and Hannibal clasps his hands on Will's; pulls his arms around his middle. The demanding nature of it shocks a rough laugh out of Will.</p><p>"How do you feel about your thrown gauntlet now, Hannibal?"</p><p>"Very glad indeed."</p><p>Will shakes his head.</p><p>"Of course you are."</p><p>"Do you deny your own satisfaction, Will?"</p><p>"No point with you, is there?"</p><p>"I would hope not," Hannibal murmurs.</p><p>He leans back to kiss Will over his shoulder, soft this time, no haze of copper. It feels good. Will knows this is something he can have, now. Hannibal wants him to, and he wants to keep it.</p><p>He sighs; the mutual ache that Bedelia had taunted him with is an old friend, and he's carried it a long time, with the sound of clipping hooves.</p><p>Will and Hannibal quietly shift apart to clean up and collect themselves, and then Hannibal gestures Will back to bed and winds around him, both of them blissfully still. </p><p>"I love you, Will," Hannibal says then, as severe an understatement as Will has ever heard. "Thank you for the many gifts you have given me."</p><p>"You're welcome," Will says after a pause, for lack of anything more original.</p><p>Hannibal doesn't look disappointed. He's smiling soft and easy, seemingly not expecting reciprocity.</p><p>Will supposes for now the scoreboard is even. That might change, though. He's sure, whatever happens, it won't be boring.</p><p>"Why'd you wait until now?" he asks idly.</p><p>"To do what?"</p><p>"To... proposition me," Will clarifies.</p><p>"I was your psychiatrist."</p><p>"Not," Will points out, "for a very long time."</p><p>"I didn't think such an offer would be well received. Unless..."</p><p>"I thought about it in Florence," Will mutters.</p><p>"And then tried to stab me instead."</p><p>"In my defense..." Will raises an eyebrow.</p><p>"I was disappointed, but proud as well."</p><p>"I know you were." Will swallows. "I remember you washing me."</p><p>"You were so beautiful," Hannibal murmurs.</p><p>Will sighs. "I had a black eye and cuts all over."</p><p>"You're never so beautiful as when you're bearing the scars of fighting to get to me."</p><p>"I have more of those now."</p><p>"As do I."</p><p>Their hands seek out new scar tissue, silently.</p><p>"You suit them," Hannibal whispers.</p><p>"S-so... do you."</p><p>"You stutter when you're flattered."</p><p>"Hannibal," Will groans.</p><p>Chuckling, Hannibal cups Will's cheek, the touch so unexpectedly tender it makes Will's throat tight. He knows he brings it out in him in the same way Hannibal invokes cruelty in Will, a dark mirror, endlessly reflecting one another.</p><p>Will sighs, and covers Hannibal's hand with his own. Identically different, and together. They can finally stop running.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We were so honored and delighted to have this win 2nd place in the Fannibal Fest Bottom Hannibal Bonanza challenge! Thank you! We hope you enjoyed reading and appreciate comments and kudos ♥</p></blockquote></div></div>
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